


Reunion

by ScreechTheMighty



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Except now they're not...they're really not, Gen, I hesitate to use the tag "mind rape" but it's VERY non-con so keep that in mind, Non-Consensual Mind Reading, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 06:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6554977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreechTheMighty/pseuds/ScreechTheMighty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He should’ve known who it was from the first words out of the pilot’s mouth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was on TV Tropes and read this wonderful entry on The Force Awaken's page: "It’s more than likely that Poe Dameron, whose parents were very good friends with Luke, Leia and Han, and who is only slightly older than Kylo Ren, knew him as Ben Solo, and they were probably friends as children. Now re-watch that torture scene again." Then I got enabled into writing this fic. Keep in mind, I wrote it at like three in the morning, so if it's rough in places, that's why. I did my best to revise it, though.

There were things Kylo Ren didn’t like to think about; memories he kept locked away, of times long ago when he went by another name. The fact that he hadn’t thought about that life in so long was why he didn’t recognize the man at first. In hindsight, he should’ve known who it was from the first words out of the pilot’s mouth.

_So, who talks first? Do you talk first? I talk first?_

Ren had, at the time, been too focused on finding the map to worry about the man’s identity. But later, as they returned to the Star Destroyer…

_It’s just hard to understand you with all the apparatus…_

He began to wonder.

The pieces fell in place the longer he contemplated them. The dark hair, the jacket, the infuriating need to mask fear with a thick layer of sarcasm—all familiar traits. It had been a long time, but if he allowed himself to tap into those memories for just a second, to recall…

_Branches casting shadows on the path ahead, an excited laugh, model spaceships and a helmet several sizes too big, the older boy starting to climb up the tree with an adventurous grin on his face, **c’mon, Ben, what’s the worst that could happen?**_

The last piece came when an officer came to report on the prisoner’s interrogation. They hadn’t been able to get the location of the droid out of him. But they did have his identity now—the only thing he _had_ given up. He was a New Republic Starfleet commander named…

“Poe Dameron.”

Kylo repeated the name quietly.

Yes. He knew the man.

Poe Dameron was the son of two veterans of the Rebellion—Shara Bey and Kes Dameron. Shara Bey knew Leia Organa, and by extension, Ben Solo. Ben Solo had been introduced to Poe when the two were six and eight, respectively.  Poe wanted to be a pilot. He wanted to see _everything in the galaxy_. He developed a fear of heights after falling out of a tree at age nine, an event Ben Solo witnessed. Poe was enthusiastic, friendly, and thought that Ben’s growing Force abilities were “really cool.” _You’ll be a great Jedi. Like, better than Luke Skywalker. I bet you will._

Poe had a way of saying things that made you want to believe him. Ren wasn’t surprised that the man had made commander. He was a natural leader—determined and driven, but kind. And now, he was the First Order’s prisoner.

Now he was Kylo Ren’s prisoner.

“Nothing they’ve done will make him talk?”

“No, sir. General Hux is growing impatient.”

Of course he was. Ren bit back the urge to scoff. “Tell General Hux…”

_We will break him._ No, they wouldn’t, because that was something else he remembered about Poe Dameron. He was stubborn, but more than that, he was loyal. He would never reveal the Resistance’s secrets, no matter how high the cost to his own well-being. No one in the First Order would be able to break him.

No one except Kylo Ren.

“…I’ll have a word with the pilot myself.”

Going into that room would be dangerous, he knew. He had already indulged in memories that should have remained locked away, fond thoughts of childish games and long afternoons spent getting into trouble. Being in the same room as the man that he’d once known…

No. Ben Solo had known Poe Dameron. To Kylo Ren, the man was just another rebel. He was no one. And if, even if, this man still meant something to Kylo Ren—which he didn’t, but even if he did—it didn’t matter. He needed the map to Skywalker. If getting that meant breaking Dameron, so be it.

He put all thoughts of Ben Solo and those faint memories out of his mind as he walked to the holding cell. All thoughts save for one, which crawled its way out just before he entered the room: _Does he remember me? Would he recognize me now?_

He shook that thought from his mind as well before entering.

Dameron was slumped against the chair, eyes closed. His impression in the Force said that he was awake—in pain, but still conscious. A bruise was forming near his eye ( _he remembered, briefly, the purple bruising on the older boy’s skin where he’d accidentally run into a tree branch, they’d laughed about it for hours afterwards_ ); blood splattered across his face, stained his lips, and the collar of his shirt. Ren tilted his head and chose his words carefully.

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance onboard.”

It was the sort of thing he—no, Ben Solo—would have said in jest before. _The best pilot ever_. When Dameron lifted his head, Ren thought the comment sparked some familiarity for the pilot. The thought passed quickly. The look in Dameron’s eyes was one of quiet contempt, not confusion or recognition. Very well. “Comfortable?” Ren continued.

“…not really.”

Strange, how his voice could sound familiar and unfamiliar after so many years. “I’m impressed.” And he was. Dameron had never been a pushover, but surviving this level of torture without succumbing? That was most impressive. Ren stepped forward. “No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.”

“You might want to re-think your technique.”

Ren had re-thought his technique.

It was something he’d done a thousand times before. All he had to do was reach out his hand and… _push_. Gently, at first, or as gently as something like this could be done. Not enough to probe deeply, but enough to get the pilot’s attention. And it did. His face changed from _arrogant_ to _fearful_ as the sensation of Ren reaching into his mind sank in. There was an expression Ren had never seen on Dameron’s face before. At least, not for long. Not to this magnitude. The golden boy was afraid, truly afraid, for once. But he was as resilient as ever—the fear didn’t stop him from struggling against Ren’s probing. Ren could feel him fighting back. He was strong. He’d always been strong.

But not strong enough. Not this time.

Ren pushed harder. Dameron’s head hit the back of the chair with a solid _thump._ “Where is it?” Ren asked again. The harder he pushed, the more thoughts he dragged to the surface. Not just the raw emotions, but real thoughts, words racing through Dameron’s mind. _What’s happening? What’s he doing to me? No, no, fight it, Poe, c’mon, you can fight this, you can…_

His breathing was harsh and rough. It was clear he was in pain. But Dameron still met Ren’s gaze, still spoke with conviction, even through the pain: “The Resistance…will not be intimidated by you…”

Defiant to the end. _Foolish_ to the end. That was just like him, wasn’t it? Always get back up Poe Dameron, keep on fighting Poe Dameron, no matter what, even as a child…the thought sent a surge of frustration through Ren as he probed deeper. Memories began to surface; useless scraps, at first, but then more substantial memories, Dameron in his X-Wing, the droid beeping to announce that the co-ordinates had been set to Jakku…all of that suddenly brushed away by a persistent recall, a looped memory of that tree in the backyard. Ren remembered that tree, and found himself briefly stuck on the memory, on the thought that they had both been there once, together…

He pushed past the memory with a low growl: “ _Where…is it?_ ”

Dameron fought. He threw up other memories to try and mask the one Ren was searching for—his mother’s A-Wing ( _he remembered Poe helping him up into it, showing him what all the buttons were for without actually touching them because if they touched the buttons, they’d get in trouble_ ), the lake not too far from their home ( _free of any flesh-eating fish, or so Poe claimed as he tried to coax Ben into jumping in_ ), tall metal structures, hangers with fleets of fighters, all sizes and shapes ( _this he had no memory of—Poe wouldn’t have gone to the Academy until long after Ben Solo died and Kylo Ren took his place—but he talked about going all the time. About being the best pilot in the galaxy_ ).

Ren growled again and pushed past those memories—past the memories of a long-dead boy who never would have dreamed of doing this to someone he considered a friend. But wasn’t this better for him? Painful as it was, it was faster than what they had been doing to him earlier. They’d get their information, and then they’d be free to kill him. It would be over for him that way. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t Ben Solo want this to be over?

He would. So it was time to end this.

Ren probed deeper. The struggle showed on Dameron’s face as he did—he was trying, desperately, but he was no match for Ren. _The best Jedi in the galaxy_. Not quite. But Ren had become more powerful since that conversation. More powerful than either he or Dameron would have dreamed at the time. Powerful enough to slip past Dameron’s defenses and find…

_The smell of the X-Wing burning, blaster fire not far away, you take this…it’ll be safer with you than with me…you get as far away from here as you can…_

The droid had it. The orange and white BB unit.

_I’ll come back for you. It’ll be all right._

The droid had the map. And the droid was still on Jakku.

It wasn’t until he released his hold on the pilot’s mind that he realized Dameron was screaming. Long, drawn-out, agonized. He had never heard a sound like that come from him. Not even when he’d fallen out of that tree. For a moment, the screaming echoed in his ears—for a moment, he didn’t feel like Kylo Ren. Dameron’s screaming trailed off to quiet, hoarse whimpering. His body shook. There were no clever retorts now. Just a panicked, horrified look.

It was that brief moment of him feeling not-himself that made him do it. Ren reached out again, this time to rest his fingertips against the man’s forehead. Dameron was unconscious before he could flinch away from the touch. Free from his pain, at least for as long as he remained asleep. It was a merciful gesture he’d never extended to any of his other victims.

It troubled him.

Ren stood in front of Dameron for a moment, contemplating him. Trying to shake the remnants of those memories away. It didn’t matter. None of those moments matter. Poe Dameron had been something to Ben Solo, but to Kylo Ren, he was nothing.

He was nothing.

It took him another moment more to clear the last of the memories from his head. Once they had the droid, and the map, Poe Dameron would be executed, and that would be the end of it. He would never have to dwell on him again. Ren didn’t spare the man another look as he exited the holding cell—didn’t allow himself to consider doing so at all, or to dwell on the fact that part of him wanted to. He had to focus on finding the droid. The faster he did, the faster all of this would be over. For him.

For Poe.

“It’s in the droid. A BB unit.”

This would all be over soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Why is Kylo Ren this way? We just don't know.


End file.
